I Never Realized
by Benevolently Cynical
Summary: "What is there about fire that's so lovely? No matter what age we are, what draws us to it? It's perpetual motion; the thing man wanted to invent but never did. Or almost perpetual motion. If you let it go on, it'd burn our lifetimes out."
1. The Elemental and the Element

_Cinna's crazy_, I decided as he came towards me with a lighter. I backed away quickly. "No. No way, Cinna. I'm not setting myself on fire, thank you," I told him. He smiled. "It's not real fire, Katniss, look." He waved his hand through the fire to demonstrate. His hand wasn't burnt.

"Come on, Katniss. How bad could it be?" Peeta tried to negotiate with me. I warily allowed Cinna to come closer. "Just because I trust you." I said cautiously. He nodded gravely, and then, he set me on fire.

I stepped into the chariot with Peeta, who was also flickering with realistic fire. We were the last to enter the City Circle, so we had a few seconds before we entered the view of the spectators. I noticed many of the other tributes glaring enviously at our costumes, and I couldn't blame them. Our costumes were splendid, especially compared to those who were dressed as trees or fishes. We were both clothed in some sort of black shiny fabric, almost like leather, and wore capes which were, at the moment, engulfed in a synthetic flame.

Peeta was looking around at the other tributes too. "Aren't you glad we got Cinna? This is _much _better than coal miners' outfits," he whispered. I suppressed a laugh; for as long as I could remember, the tributes from District 12 had been dressed as miners for the parade. So yes, being the embodiment of fire was definitely better.

"District 2's not too bad though; they look like immortals." I glanced over to where Peeta was pointing. The brunette girl was dressed in a gown of shimmery gold, with an elegant headdress. Her face was mostly natural except for some gold eyeliner, and her eyelashes had flecks of gold which sparkled each time she blinked. The boy was dressed in a Grecian-style suit of armor, with a sleeveless tunic made out of elaborate golden chain mail, and a laurel wreath wrought from gold. The whole effect was quite mesmerizing, but they still couldn't beat our costumes.

I accidentally made eye contact with the male tribute from District 2. He raised his eyebrows in appraisal, smirked, and then winked at me. I turned away, not even bothering to react. I was above him; I was flame and he was gold, and fire melted metal.

It was time to go. District 1 went out first, with District 2 following. Soon, it was our turn. Peeta turned to me and offered his hand. "Ready?"

I hesitated – was I ready? I hadn't decided by the time the horses hitched to our chariot started moving, but I decided that holding Peeta's hand was a much more attractive alternative to falling out of the chariot. As I gripped his hand, I whispered, "I guess so." He chuckled.

I wondered if Prim and my mother were watching. A pang of sadness hit me, threatening to double me over. Were they okay? I knew Gale was taking care of them, but sometimes hunting could be hard, especially if you were trying to take care of two families. Peeta saw my face and squeezed my hand reassuringly. I looked up at him and made myself smile. It would be okay.

As the entrance came forward to meet us, the sadness cleared and was replaced by excitement and a little apprehension. This was it. This was our time to make an impression and hopefully gain sponsors. I was aware of a lot of shouting, but it seemed muffled. As soon as we crossed the threshold, though, the noise became immediately deafening. There were thousands of people in the stands, each already cheering for their favorite tribute. When the crowds saw us, the noise escalated even more.

We must have been quite a sight, our capes flowing behind us, crackling with fire and light. Peeta and I waved and smiled at the crowd, making them scream even louder for us. I caught a red rose which had been tossed to us along with numerous others and smelled it, blowing a kiss in the general direction of the crowd.

We were the last to pull up in front of the huge stage. It had a single podium at the front, and behind that podium stood President Snow. I could feel his eyes raking across the tributes; I held back a shudder when his gaze passed over me.

He started speaking, but I didn't really listen; I was still feeling a rush from the chariot ride. Finally, he finished and we were allowed to leave. Our horses trotted to the exit, where Peeta helped me down from the chariot. He pulled me into quick hug but let go before I had a chance to react. I decided to ignore it, and smiled brightly as Cinna, Haymitch and Effie ran up to us.

"That was fabulous!" Effie gushed.

Cinna put his hands on my shoulders and said, "You were beautiful, Katniss."

I smiled and looked at Haymitch. "Good job, sweetheart. I can't believe you pulled that off," he intoned sarcastically, but he looked secretly pleased. Amidst all this celebration, though, I noticed he was glancing furtively at something behind us.

I turned around and saw the District 1 and 2 tributes glaring at us. Most of them turned away when they saw me and Haymitch staring back, except the boy from 2. He locked eyes with me, not allowing me to look away. His stare was almost predatory; I felt like a cornered animal and could feel my adrenaline levels rising through the roof.

"Katniss… Katniss!" Peeta's voice finally drew me back.

I tore my gaze from the District 2 boy and glanced at Peeta, annoyed. "What?"

"We're leaving, come on." I followed him through the crowd of tributes and mentors to an elevator. As we rode, Effie never stopped blathering about our performance, and Cinna's handiwork. We were all glad to get out of the elevator and away from her by the time we reached the twelfth floor.

While we were eating dinner, Haymitch started explaining how our training would go. "You'll get three days of training. I want you to use it wisely. Don't waste it showing off your skills - try to learn new ones. That means no archery, Katniss, and Peeta, no weight lifting or wrestling. Try something like knife-throwing or camouflage." Peeta and I nodded solemnly.

Later that night, I curled up on the couch and watched the reapings from the other districts. All four tributes from Districts 1 and 2 had volunteered. I wrinkled my nose in disgust. Those tributes had been trained all their lives for the Hunger Games. When they were eighteen, they were allowed to volunteer.

I had the volume muted so I wouldn't wake anyone else, which meant I couldn't hear their names, but the boy from District 2 intrigued me. He walked up to the stage confidently, his face masked in arrogance. It seemed to me that was exactly what it was: a mask. I'd be willing to bet he was hiding fear. The girl from his district, though, had no façade. She was crazy through and through; you could tell by the glint in her eyes. I wouldn't like to come face-to-face with her in the Games.

Eventually, I went to bed, showering and getting into pajamas. However, I proceeded to lie there for two hours. I couldn't sleep a wink; my body was still full of adrenaline from the chariot show, the hungry stares of the other tributes – especially that District 2 boy.

I sighed and got up. It was going to be a long night. I might as well get something done.

Quietly, I pulled on a dark green shirt and soft brown leggings, and made my way out the door. I snuck through the hallways, hiding whenever I saw Peacekeepers or other officials. Finally I found the training room, where we would be stationed for most of tomorrow. It was locked, but it wasn't an electronic lock – piece of cake to pick. I pulled a pin from my hair and stuck it in the key hole, twisting it around expertly. After a few seconds, I heard a satisfying _click_. I grinned; like I said, that was easy.

Just as I was opening the door, though, I heard footsteps. They were a while off, but there was no doubt that they were headed in my direction. The footsteps didn't have the "clank" of a Peacekeeper's boots, but they did sound ominous. I quickly relocked the door and ran around a corner, watching to see who else was up at two in the morning.

It was the gold-boy from District 2. He was less intimidating without his costume on, but he still was clearly a force to be reckoned with. His shirt showed off his broad shoulders and a muscled chest, and his stance had a hint of military training, almost like the Peacekeepers.

He didn't see me peeking around the corner as he jiggled the lock on the training room door. I heard him swear, and he kicked the door in frustration. I had to suppress a giggle; it was absolutely comical to see a guy like him thwarted by a simple lock.

His head whipped around, looking for the sound. I cursed to myself and fled back to my room. It wouldn't do for him to catch me in a secluded hallway at two in the morning. Judging by his glares at the chariot event, he was angry that Peeta and I had outshone him. I involuntarily smirked; he probably wouldn't be winking at me again anytime soon. I fell asleep that night knowing I'd need all the rest I could get for tomorrow. We had three days, and I had a feeling I wasn't going to get a lot of sleep between now and then.


	2. Lamb Stew

The next morning found me and Peeta in the training room along with twenty two other tributes. We looked around us in awe. The room was huge; it was almost as big as the arena we had been in last night, and divided into several different sections. There was archery, spear and knife throwing, swords, wrestling, camouflage, a ropes course, edible plants, and even a swimming pool for those who didn't know how to swim.

I had to stop myself from ogling the archery section; there were bows of every sort, and different styles of arrows. It was a hunter's heaven. I sighed. Peeta, who was checking out the camouflage station, smiled. "It's okay, Katniss. You'll get your shot." He chuckled at his own pun. I was too interested in what was going on around me to show any sort of amusement.

Districts 1 and 2 had apparently made an alliance; they were taking over the archery and spear and knife throwing, showing off their skills. I watched as the District 2 girl threw three knives in quick succession, all three of them hitting the bulls eye of a target fifteen yards away. The District 1 boy handled a spear pretty well; he could throw from about ten yards and hit close to the bulls eye. The District 1 girl seemed basically useless; she was fumbling with a bow, barely able to hit the target at all.

The District 2 boy, however, outshone them all. He threw a spear at the fifteen yard line and hit the bulls eye. He could throw knives like nobody's business, hitting the bulls eye every time.

I glanced at the Gamekeepers, who were watching the tributes. They were intently watching the Careers; I could tell they were impressed, although their faces were mostly stoic. I sighed and turned back to Peeta. "So what do you want to do?" He looked around for a moment. "How about we try the ropes course?" I nodded, and we headed over there.

Ten minutes later I jumped down seven feet and looked up at Peeta, who was currently hanging upside down fifteen feet in the air by his ankle. He looked ridiculous, swaying back and forth. I laughed quietly. "Need some help up there, Peeta?"

He looked at me. "You know I'd be really annoyed with you right now if I didn't need you to help me down." I made a theatrical bow and walked away. "Katniss! Katniss! Help me down!" I chuckled and got one of the trainers to go help. I knew they were going to take a while to get his ankle untangled from the mass of ropes, so I went over to the knife-throwing section. The Careers were gone, thankfully, so I had it all to myself.

I knew how to throw a knife so that it would stick, but I wasn't that accurate. I could barely hit a target five yards away. The trainer had no especially helpful advice, so I was on my own. I threw knife after knife, only stopping to collect them once the target started looking like the porcupine I had once accidentally caught in a trap. I sighed. I wasn't improving much, so I put knife-throwing on my list of things to practice later. I looked around for Peeta, but I couldn't spot him. Most of the tributes I saw were fumbling with swords and bows and edible plants; they didn't know what they were doing.

I felt a pang of pity for them; at least I knew how to use a bow. These other kids didn't know what they were doing; they hadn't been trained for anything like this. Except the Careers. They had been trained for this their whole life.

"You're so helpful, did you know that?" I turned around to see Peeta grumbling as he fingered the knives which were impressively displayed on a stand.

"You seemed like you were having fun. I thought I'd let you hang around a little longer." I grinned.

"You're hilarious. You really are." He managed to glare at me for a full five seconds before shaking his head and smiling ruefully. I smirked.

Suddenly a bell rang overhead. All the tributes stopped what they were doing and looked to Atala, the training room overseer. She clapped her hands. "Okay, everyone, time for lunch." I looked at my watch; it was already 1:30 in the afternoon. I took one last look at the archery station before following Peeta to the lunchroom.

I eyed the lunchroom warily. Buffet tables lined the four walls, filled with nearly every food imaginable. Of course it was all wholesome food, considering we needed to eat healthy in order to keep up our strength. I spotted the lamb stew with prunes on the table farthest from the door and dragged Peeta to it as the other tributes slowly trickled through the double doors. I grabbed a plate from one of the Avoxes standing by and started filling it with the stew.

"You know you're going to get sick if you eat too much of that." I whirled around; it was the District 2 boy.

I continued filling my plate. "Just trying to enjoy myself a little before I'm sent to my death."

I immediately regretted saying that; now he thought that I had already given up on winning the Hunger Games. He smirked. "Then by all means, gorge yourself. Just makes you slower. Which isn't a good thing considering where we're headed; a slow tribute is a dead tribute."

I sighed and turned around to face him. I had to crane my neck to look him in the eyes, which annoyed me. Peeta, at least, was only an inch or so taller than me.

"What do you want from me, District 2? Because I'm not scared of you." He chuckled and crossed his arms.

"What do I want?" He said thoughtfully. It seemed he was asking himself more than he was asking me.I continued filling my plate with chicken and greens. He followed me, filling his own plate as we walked slowly down the table.

When we reached the end of the buffet line, I turned to leave. He grabbed me roughly by the shoulder. I wrenched away from his strong grasp, spilling some carrots onto the floor. "What?" I growled.

He took my chin in his hand, forcing me to look at him. What was this guy's issue with touching me? "I want to see whether you're worth my time, 12."

I stuck out my tongue and walked away. Juvenile, I know. But he was so infuriating. Worth his time? He was the most arrogant man I had ever met. _He _wasn't worth _my _time. I hurried to join Peeta who was just sitting down.

Peeta and I were the only tributes who sat together, except for the Careers. Everyone else ate by themselves; not lot looking at each other. I felt bad for them, because they were alone. At least Peeta and I could be friendly towards each other. In fact, we sort of had to be. Haymitch was trying to play up the united look, apparently.

My gaze drifted to the District 2 boy again. He was talking and laughing with the rest of the Careers. He must have felt me staring at him, because he looked around and met my gaze. He smiled cockily at me, and then turned back to the conversation at his table. I shook my head and continued pretending to listen to Peeta's ramblings about bread.

I spent the rest of the afternoon teaching Peeta how to swim; I didn't want him drowning when I wasn't looking. The lesson ended up with us having a dunking contest, though. Between splashes I caught glimpses of the other tributes looking at us quizzically; apparently there wasn't any fun allowed during training.

The bell that signaled the end of training sounded, and Peeta and I regretfully got out of the pool. We wrapped towels that had been offered by assistants around us and raced for the elevator. It was a long way away, so by the time we got there we were out of breath from laughing and running at the same time. "That was fun," Peeta said as he put his hands on his knees, gasping for breath. I chuckled.

Just as the doors were about close, the District 2 boy suddenly slipped between them. He took one look at us, and smirked. He pressed the button to his floor and stood there. I felt his eyes roving my soaked body, and pulled my towel closer about me.

"Hey, I'm Peeta, and this is Katniss." Peeta held out his hand. The boy looked at Peeta's hand for a long time before shaking it. He didn't say anything, though. Peeta looked at me uncomfortably.

"You can really throw a spear," Peeta said admiringly.

"After fifteen years of practice I'd hope so," the boy said coldly. That silenced Peeta. The elevator doors opened and the boy walked out. He turned around. "See you tomorrow, Katniss." He winked and smiled. I stuck out my tongue at him again as the doors closed. His smirk only grew wider. Bastard.


	3. Knife Lessons

_I hate Haymitch_, I thought as I shot an arrow between the painted eyes of the cloth dummy from eighty yards away. It was midnight and I had snuck into the training room so I could accustom myself to the high-tech bows that I was provided with.

Haymitch wouldn't let me practice in front of everyone; he wanted me to surprise the Game Makers with my skill. Unfortunately they wouldn't be very impressed if I fumbled around with bows that I was unfamiliar with.

_I hate the Games. _ The arrow landed in the middle of the chest cavity.

_I hate the Capitol. _This arrow landed in the red spot representing the dummy's heart. I smiled grimly and chose another dummy, this time from one hundred yards away.

I shot arrows into the dummy as fast as I could; only stopping when my quiver was emptied. I walked towards the dummy to retrieve the arrows that peppered its cloth-covered frame. I hummed a tune as I plucked each arrow out and returned it to the quiver.

These were high-quality arrows, perfectly straight and fletched with some sort of plastic that didn't bend or tear like feathers did. The tips on these arrows were small and barely pointed; however, I was sure in the arena they would be barbed to inflict as much damage and pain as possible.

I turned around and repeated the same process, this time humming a song as I turned yet another unfortunate dummy into a porcupine. I smiled, pretending the dummy was Haymitch. He could be so annoying sometimes; it didn't help that he was perpetually inebriated.

Finally my quiver ran out of arrows. I sighed and walked towards the dummy. I hadn't gotten within ten yards of it when a knife whizzed past my ear and buried itself in the dummy's heart, cleaving one of my previously launched arrows in half.

I whirled around. It was the boy from District 2; I couldn't remember his name. How did he get in here? Drat. I must have left the door unlocked.

His blond hair was bright in the fluorescent lights, and his blue eyes were startling. How did he get in here without me hearing him? "What the hell? You almost killed me!" I snarled at him. He smirked and raised another knife. I didn't move; this boy wasn't going to intimidate me.

"You're not supposed to be here, District 2."

He chuckled. "Neither are you, District 12. I wouldn't be throwing stones if I were you, little glass house. And don't worry; I won't tell about your little skill." He took aim.

His arm was a blur as he threw the knife. It whizzed past my ear, sending a lock of my hair fluttering in the breeze it created. I turn around. The knife was lodged neatly in the dummy's nose. I stalked over to the dummy and started pulling arrows out, studiously ignoring him. I knew he wasn't going to kill me; he'd get disqualified from the Games if he did. What I _was_ worried about, however, was whether or not he really would keep quiet about my skill with a bow. I knew not to trust him, but I also knew that it wouldn't really gain him any advantage by telling anyone else about it. In fact, it might help him, because I would be able to take out more tributes with a skill like that. I decided to let it be for now.

I turned around and found his blue eyes watching me. I glared at him until he chuckled and continued skewering the dummy with alarming precision and power. I watched him a moment. He was fully focused on the dummy, pulling back his arm and throwing knives in quick succession. It was an impressive sight.

I walked to a rack that had knives arranged menacingly on it. I picked a double-edged one without serrated edges. I moved to a target ten yards away, aimed, and shot. It hit the very outer edge of the target. I sighed and picked up a dozen more knives and started throwing them at the target, with little improvement.

I didn't notice the sudden quiet until a hand took the knife I was aiming with. I turned around quickly, attempting to land a punch to District 2's pretty face. He caught my fist easily and laughed. I glared and tried to wrest my hand from his grasp.

After a few seconds he let both hands go, keeping the knife. I stumbled backwards and almost fell, but he lunged forward and caught me by the waist. I struggled against him. "Take it easy, 12. I was just going to show you how to throw a knife properly." He let me go and I back up at least five paces away from him. I looked at him, trying to discern his motive. His face showed arrogance, as usual, but he didn't seem to belie any malice.

I nodded slowly. "Okay, show me."

He walked forward eagerly. "Okay, first of all, you're drawing back too much. The knife shouldn't go past this far," He demonstrated what he meant. I nodded, imitating his movements with my own knife.

He nodded. "You're also tilting your arm to one side a little. It needs to be straight." He straightened my arm, his strong fingers gripping my elbow. I glanced at him sideways, and noticing he was also eyeing me discreetly. I cleared my throat. "Is that it?"

"Not exactly. You're also drawing out your throw; it needs to be quick and precise. Try to visualize the target, and then throw as fast as you can. Watch."

He stood a few more paces away from the target. He contemplated it for a second, then, quick as lightning, he threw the knife right into the center of the target. I whistled slowly. "That was impressive." He grinned at me, genuinely pleased. I smiled back, a small one, but a smile nonetheless.

He walked to the target, pulled the knife out, and walked back to me. "Okay, now you try. Remember, keep your arm straight; otherwise the knife is going to fly crooked."

I nodded and looked at the target. I threw the knife as fast as I could, and it lodged much closer to the bulls eye than my first attempt. "That was much better. Next time, use more wrist; you're throwing with your shoulder."

I pulled the knife out and walked back to the District 2 boy. I stared at the target, and was about to throw, when he stopped my arm. I looked up at him impatiently. "What?"

"You're still throwing wrong. It doesn't feel natural, does it." I slowly shook my head. "No, not really. My shoulder feels funny." He nodded and stood behind me, adjusting my arm as he looked behind my shoulder. I could feel his breath on my neck; it was cool on my flushed skin. His large hand traveled the length of my arm, making minute adjustments to my stance. I desperately hoped he didn't see the blush I felt rising to my cheeks. If he did, he seemed to be ignoring it. He pushed his leg against mine until I moved it into the position he wanted.

Finally, he stepped back. "Okay, now how does it feel?" His arms were crossed and he was looking at my form critically. I couldn't tell whether he was looking at my stance or my figure. I glared at him just in case it was the latter. He ignored it and asked again.

"It feels a little better; it's still strange though."

"Try throwing."

I shrugged and threw my knife. It landed on the very edge of the bulls eye. I grinned and looked at him. He smiled and offered me a high-five. I paused for a second, thinking. What did he want from me? Then I shrugged and returned the high-five. I was learning how to throw a knife – priceless information for where I was headed.

"Now throw it again."

I threw seventeen more times, with varying success. However, I was never more than three inches from the bulls eye. I looked at my watch; it was half past two in the morning. My eyes widened. "It's almost three in the morning, 2." He looked at the glowing clock set into the wall and sighed. "Time for bed, then. Goodnight, 12."

He turned to leave, but I put my hand on his arm to stop him. "Wait. Tell me why you're doing this. The knife lessons. What could you possibly gain by teaching me how to fight better? For all you know, this could be your undoing in the Game."

He chuckled. "It's going to take a lot more than a 5' 3'' girl with a knife to bring me down."

I stared at him, trying to discern his actual motive. He was missing his normal arrogance; his face looked open, and almost kind. "What's your name again?" I asked.

"Cato."

"Cato," I repeated. It was a nice name. He nodded and made to leave again.

"Goodnight, Cato." I called as he approached the door. He looked back and smiled. "Goodnight, Katniss."

I turned off all the lights in the training room and snuck back to my room. I showered quickly and went to bed; tomorrow was going to be interesting, to say the least. I wondered if Cato would really keep my secret.


	4. Training Day 2

I woke up four hours later and jumped out of bed. I dressed, braided my hair, and walked into the dining room. There was a whole buffet filled with all sorts of food; bacon, eggs, toast, fruit, and several different varieties of pancakes. I loaded my plate with food and started shoveling it into my mouth; I was starving.

Peeta walked in a few minutes later, looking well-refreshed. "Morning," I mumbled through a mouthful of egg. He grinned. "Morning, Katniss. Ready to train again?"

I swallowed and nodded. "Lord knows I can use all the training I can get. I have virtually no experience with any weapon besides a bow and knife."

He frowned. "I don't recall you telling Haymitch that you were especially good with knives."

I inwardly kicked myself. "Um, well, I've been practicing, and I've gotten much better." He nodded and started filling his own plate.

Haymitch walked in, carrying a bottle of who-knows-what. He nodded briefly to me; I tipped my head curtly in response. Just because he had decided to help didn't make us the best of friends. He got a bowl of cereal and carried it to the table; sloshing a good portion of its contents onto the table and floor in the process.

Peeta and I exchanged looks. _What happened to "sober enough?" _

Haymitch interrupted our silent conversation by belching loudly, then saying, "So today's the second day of training. I want you two to start looking for possible alliances. They're going to be important if you want to stay alive."

_Cato._ That was my first thought. I saw how he handled his spear yesterday; it was like an extension of his arm. And the boy could throw a knife. Yep. I wanted Cato as my ally. I looked at Peeta; he was already looking at me questioningly. "Got any ideas, Katniss?"

I shook my head. "Nope, not really. Though I wasn't really focused on any of the other tributes yesterday; I didn't get a good chance to scope them out." _Biggest lie of my life. _"But we can look today and see if we like anyone."

He nodded in agreement. "Sounds good." I smiled at him and finished my breakfast.

Back in my room, I looked at the outfit that had been set out for me. A black jumpsuit with the number 12 printed on the back in bright yellow. I sighed and put it on. The material was comfortable; it probably would evaporate liquids pretty quickly.

I walked to the elevator where Peeta was waiting for me. He was dressed in the same garment. We looked at each other and started laughing. "We look ridiculous!" I said after we had calmed down a bit. He grinned. Haymitch came to escort us to the training facility; he completely ignored our garb. As usual, there were others before us. I looked around for Cato, but neither he nor his fellow tribute was in sight.

I looked longingly towards the archery station, but Peeta nudged me past it gently. I sighed and walked on to the edible foods section. I looked among the various plants and roots, trying to discern what type of environment we would encounter in the Games. I saw mint, parsley, pine nuts, and various other foods.

I sensed a presence behind me; I thought it was Peeta.

"Looks like it's probably going to be a temperate forest, like back home. That's good for us; I know almost every root and leaf here. If we can't get any supplies I'll be able to take care of us."

"Was that an offer?"

Not Peeta.

I turned around and found myself two inches from Cato's chest.

I backed up a little and looked up at him; it didn't help that he was at least a foot taller than me. His arms were crossed and he was looking down at me cockily. I regarded him warily.

"Not quite. Do you need something?" I asked .

His smile disappeared and he walked closer to me, closing the distance I had just obtained. He stared at me, his eyes grave and serious. "To survive."

I stared right back at him. "What's it to me?"

His eyes regained some of their condescending mirth. "You tell me, Firegirl."

We remained three inches apart, staring into each other's faces, until a blur ran between us, almost causing us both to fall on the ground. "What the - ?" Cato snarled.

"Where did that little freak go?" A female voice shrieked. It was Cato's fellow tribute; she was stark raving mad about something. Cato sighed and walked away to calm her, winking at me as he left. I heard him call her Clove as he tried to reason with her.

I looked around for the small form that had saved me from an awkward moment with Cato. It was nowhere to be found; someone was very good at hiding. I wondered what had made Clove so angry.

I walked around until I found Peeta at the knife-throwing station. He was missing the target by inches; I winced when one clattered against the wall a few yards behind the target. A lot of the tributes who were practicing there snickered.

"Don't mind them, Peeta. Here, let me show you."

I picked up a beautiful stainless steel number, doubled-edged and serrated near the handle. I looked at the target, mentally aimed, and threw the knife. It hit neatly in the center of the bulls eye. I grinned and looked around for Cato before I knew what I was doing. I quickly turned my head, but not before I saw him grinning proudly.

I became aware of Peeta staring at me, his mouth dangerously close to gaping. I rolled my eyes.

"I told you I've been practicing, Peeta."

"Katniss, you have GOT to teach me how you do that. That was amazing." I smiled and started teaching him the technique Cato showed me.

After ten minutes Peeta's aim had improved drastically; he was able to hit fairly close to the center of the target, and even got a bulls eye once. After a few more minutes we decided to go to the camouflage station. As we walked, Peeta said, "So, have you met anyone yet?"

It took me a while to grasp his actual meaning. "Um, I'm not sure yet. What about you?"

He shrugged. "No one really jumps out at me. Thresh though, from District 11, seems okay. He's really quiet though; I don't know if he'd be interested in making an alliance." I nodded and took a mental note.

I fingered a knife as I attempted to say casually, "Actually, I was looking around, and Cato seems like a pretty good option. He can throw a spear, and he's pretty intimidating. If we could hook up with him and the other Careers, we'd have a good chance of surviving for a while."

Peeta snorted. "Yeah, until they start turning on each other, and you know full well we'll be the first ones they turn on."

"That's why we'd hightail it out of there before that happens. It could just be until they take almost everyone else out. Then we could go off on our own and wait." _Wait until one of us dies, or until we have to kill each other_, I thought bitterly.

He shrugged. "We'll talk it over with Haymitch. The real problem, though, would be getting the Careers to agree to it. We'd have to show some viable skill in order for them to consider letting us in. Maybe you could talk to Cato about it, since he's apparently the leader."

I saw my opportunity and jumped for it like a suicidal. "True. I could show him my knife-throwing skills, and your camouflage skills. But first I think I'd probably have to get on his good side; he seems to have a dislike for people like us. I'll hang around him for a few days, and then pop the question." I mentally slapped myself for saying it like that.

Thankfully, Peeta didn't notice. "Sounds good. How about you go talk to him, while I check out the camouflage station? I've been itching to try out those paints."

"Meet you there later." I said over my shoulder as I went off in search of Cato. Although there were only twenty four of us, it was hard to find people. There were trainers everywhere, and although the training room was one room, there were partitions that made it hard to see the entirety of it.

Cato was with the other Career tributes – no surprise there. They were at the weight lifting station. Apparently they were actually training today, instead of just showing off their prerequisite skills.

Cato was busy benching 200 pounds, while Marvel was doing reps and the girls were doing some sort of yoga-weight combination training.

I walked over to Cato, ignoring the girls' glares. "Hey, Cato." I said tentatively as he lifted the bar. There was a pause as he made another rep. "Hey Katniss." I then realized that I really had nothing to say to Cato. Damn.

So I just stood back and watched him. He took steady breaths as he lifted the weight and brought it back down to his chest. I had to admit that it was an impressive sight; strength such as his was a rare thing in the Districts, and it was hard not to appreciate it.

I mentally shook myself. What was I thinking? Cato was competition; he had to be eliminated.

Right after I said that, though, I knew it wasn't true. Cato was different. I didn't know why, though. On the outside he seemed like just another powerful, blood-thirsty killer. But I knew there was something he was hiding. I just had to find out what.


	5. Chapter 5

That evening I tried to eat dinner as calmly as I could. Tonight I was going back into the training room. That in and of itself wasn't scary; it was just that I didn't know if Cato would be there or not. But I wasn't going to stop practicing just because some tall, good looking fellow was going to be there too. If I was going to win the Games, I would need all the practice I could get.

I checked my watch for the fifth time as I sat with Peeta watching TV. He glanced over at me. "Waiting for something?" I looked at him. Was it that obvious?

I attempted a yawn. "I'm just sort of tired. Today's training wiped me out."

"Then you should probably go to bed." I nodded and said goodnight as I went to my room.

I showered quickly and dressed for practice, then slid into my bed and waited.

I waited half an hour after all the lights in the hallway and outside my window were out, then snuck out of my room and into the hallway. I encountered no one as I threaded my way through the maze of rooms and halls and elevators to the training room. The door was locked once again; it took me less than ten seconds to unlock it again.

As I was about to shut the door, I hesitated. Should I relock the door? I knew that Cato wouldn't be able to get in if I did; he was incapable of picking locks. So the question was; did I want to let him come and practice with me? After a few seconds, I decided that Cato was welcome to come. After all, he taught me how to throw a knife with considerable precision. As long as he didn't try anything funny, I'd be glad to have him around.

So, I left the door unlocked – but closed – and jogged a few times around the track to warm up. He still hadn't come. So I decided to try out my climbing skills.

I was a whiz at climbing trees; my father taught me how, and it helped immensely to have the advantage of height when hunting. The climbing station here, however, included much more than trees. There were ropes and walls and rocks of all kinds. I rubbed chalk into my hands gleefully; this was going to be fun.

I climbed all the trees with ease, and then started on the rocks. These were a little trickier as I wasn't as accustomed to climbing rocks; however, it wasn't impossible. I relished the feeling of my muscles straining to reach the next foothold.

Suddenly I heard a door open quietly. I twisted my head around and saw Cato walking through the door. I scurried the rest of the way to the top and hid. I wasn't sure why I hid; I probably wanted to see whether Cato came to train with me, or to practice by himself. I wasn't sure why it mattered, either.

He strode forward to the knife-throwing station confidently, looking around him as he walked. When he finally reached it, he called out quietly, "Katniss?" I didn't answer; I wanted to see what he would do. He waited a few moments, and then sighed. He threw a knife half-heartedly at a target before turning around to leave.

"Looking for someone?" I called out. He whirled around, looking for the source of my voice. When he finally spotted me sitting cross-legged on top of the rock wall, he grinned. Then he composed himself and managed to put on a very impressive scowl. "What are you doing up there, Firegirl?" I stuck out my tongue in reply.

He grinned and jogged towards the wall, and started climbing. I probably should have been afraid; Cato was a very scary individual. From what I had seen of him during training he was very fierce and lethal. But as I watched him move towards me, I felt no fear. He seemed to be in a very playful, harmless mood. Maybe this could be fun.

He moved very quickly and expertly; apparently Careers had training in climbing, too. Within a few minutes he reached the top and sat down by me. He wasn't even breathing hard. I scowled at him. "That took me ten minutes to scale."

He grinned. "Weakling." He laughed as I glared.

"I could beat you climbing trees any day," I said snootily. He laughed.

"Let's go, Firegirl." So we rappelled down the wall and found a nice large oak.

"Last one to the top's a dead tribute," he said jokingly as we faced the tree. I grinned. "You're on, big boy." Apparently his mood was spreading.

"One, two, three!"

We both raced to the tree and started climbing. He was quick and fast, but I was quicker and faster, not to mention lighter. I scrambled up the tree like a squirrel, hopping to and from the lighter branches. He was larger and heavier, so he had to stick closer to the trunk, which slowed him down. However, despite his size, I still reached the top mere seconds before him.

I looked down on him as he reached the last branch. "You're dead, Cato."

He grinned wolfishly. "Climb many trees back in 12, little squirrel?" Yep. Definitely playful. I stuck out my tongue at him again.

"Not so bad yourself. Do all the District 2 Careers know how to climb trees?"

He shook his head. "Nah, it's just me. Everyone else is busy throwing knives or skewering dummies. I just practiced whenever I got the chance. I know that there's more to winning the Games than knowing how to kill someone."

I looked around the room. "I wish I knew more about killing people. Not that I would want to, but if it's between them or me, I want to be able to choose me."

"Well it's definitely a skill you're going to need if you want to survive in the arena," he said. My grin disappeared. What was he playing at?

"Was that a threat?"

He smirked. "Take it as you will." I glared at him. He was being so… ambiguous. One minute he was playful and the next he was giving me a warning which might not have been a warning.

"And the prize for most cryptic statement of the day goes to… Cato!" I said sarcastically. He rolled his eyes. We stayed on our respective limbs for a few minutes, surveying the room. We were at least fifty feet in the air; we could see the whole room.

Finally I started climbing down. "Where are you going, Firegirl? Tired of the view?" Cato asked. He flexed his biceps tauntingly. I ignored his double meaning and continued descending.

"I'm tired of wasting time. I'm here to train, not sit in a tree." I said as I jumped from the last branch. I looked up at him. "Coming, pretty boy?"

He looked down at me and grinned. "So you're calling me attractive? I'm flattered, Katniss." I rolled my eyes; apparently Pretty Boy had a vain side. I couldn't really blame him though; he was the most handsome boy I had met. But in the Games, that mattered little, except to get sponsors.

I waited for him to climb down. When he finally jumped to the ground, I said, "So what do you want to do?" He looked at me questioningly. "Was that another offer, Firegirl?"

I smirked. "No, it was this lovely characteristic called courtesy. Do you have it in District 2?"

"Only on special occasions, like weddings or birthdays." He winked, and started towards the sword fighting station. I followed and watched as he browsed through the selection of swords. He finally chose a sleek, elegant sword, and handed it to me.

I looked at him. "Are you crazy? I don't know how to use a sword. I'm pretty sure that's a skill only the Careers know."

"Well if you'd shut your trap I'd teach you." He crossed his arms and looked at me. I glared at him and kept silent.

Cato smiled cockily and walked towards me. "Okay, first thing's first. You're holding it completely wrong and your stance is disgraceful." I sighed. It was going to be another long night.

Three hours later found me practicing basic moves that Cato had taught me. My arms were killing me; even though the sword was light, holding it for three hours was putting a major strain on my muscles.

Both of our good moods had disappeared; Cato's playful grin had been replaced by his more familiar scowl. I was also getting fed up with Cato. True, he had been teaching me how to use a sword, but he was also being condescending about it.

He circled me slowly, calling out corrections. "You're letting the point down too much. Keep your weight on the balls of your feet; otherwise you'll get unbalanced. Tighten your grip." He was twirling a large sword carelessly as he circled me.

Finally I got fed up. I whirled around on him, swinging my sword as powerfully as I could. He stepped back quickly, bringing his blade up to meet mine. I knew he was strong, but I was still impressed to find out that he could stop a sword in its tracks with minimal effort.

I glared at him. "Why do I even need to learn this? It's not like I'll be any good within eight days." He threw my blade off with a push from his. "You'll still have more experience using one than most of the tributes in the arena."

I lunged at him again, trying to get past his guard. He blocked my sword again effortlessly, his smirk never leaving his face. "So? I still don't see how it's going to help," I grumbled.

His smile disappeared, and in one fluid motion he disarmed me; my sword clattered to the floor a few yards away. He held his sword to my neck, pressing it against my skin until I backed up against the wall. _Shit._

He glared at me as I stood panting less than a foot away. "Because," he whispered, "any advantage you have over the other tributes will increase your chances of survival. I'm trying to help you survive, Katniss, against my better judgment. Now if you don't want any help, then hey, I'm okay with that. But if you want to survive, you're going to have to listen to me, and you're going to have to know how to use more than a bow."

I glared back at him. "Why _are_ you trying to help me survive? Why not just leave me alone and let me fend for myself?"

He smirked. "To make the Games more interesting."

I rolled my eyes. "We both know that's not true, Cato. You may be a trained killer, but that doesn't mean you enjoy killing." That was probably the wrong thing to say. He snarled and pushed me up against the wall harder, drawing a thin line of blood on my neck. There was murder in his eyes; I was almost sure he was going to slit my throat.

"I _am _a killer, Katniss. You haven't seen me in action yet. Just you wait until the Games. Then you're going to eat your words." Then, without another word, he let me go and walked away, throwing his sword down in disgust. I watched him leave, slamming the door behind him. I stayed where I was, rubbing my neck.

Last summer I had accidentally caught a bear in one of my traps, and it had given me three long scratches across my shoulder and back before I had finally killed it. That encounter did not even compare with what had just transpired. Cato had been ready to kill me. I guess I had hit a soft spot.

I made my way shakily to my room. As I was about to open my door, I thought I saw a flash of blond in the corner of my eye. I whirled around, looking for whoever had been following me. I looked around the corner, but no one was there. It must have been my imagination.

I showered, washing the blood from my neck. When I finished I looked at the cut in the mirror; it was very shallow, so no one would probably notice it. I sighed and went to bed. Maybe tomorrow Cato would be more willing to get along.


	6. Chapter 6

The next day, training didn't start until eight, so I got to sleep in two extra hours. Lord knows I needed it. This whole training at night deal was taking its toll; I was sore, and constantly yawning. When Peeta asked about me at breakfast, however, I just told him that I had been having trouble sleeping. Which was actually true; it was hard to sleep when you were training.

When we got to the training room everyone was already there. I spotted Cato at the sword station; he was cleaving limbs off the dummies with a vengeance. He spotted me and glared before returning to decapitating the unfortunate dummy who was the current object of his fury. I ignored him and turned to Peeta. He was looking at Cato uncertainly. "What do you think is wrong with him?" He asked me.

"I have no idea," I lied. "Come on; let's go to the fire-making station." We spent the next half hour learning how to make a fire. Well, it was more like me showing Peeta how to make a fire and him clumsily imitating my movements. Obviously the boy had never used flint and steel before.

Peeta was saying something about baking when someone called his name. We both looked up from the fire we were crouched over. It was Glimmer; she was beckoning to him from the camouflage station seductively.

I looked back at Peeta to gauge his reaction. He looked at her oddly – almost longingly. I grinned. So he had fallen for the beautiful whore from 1 too. I had heard rumors that she had had numerous boys under her spell.

I beckoned for him to go. "Go on, Lover boy. I think I can handle a small fire all by myself."

He grinned. "Wish me luck."

"Considering who you're going after, I'm wishing as hard as I can."

He rolled his eyes and left. I shook my head and smiled. It was good for Peeta to have a distraction; I had caught him multiple times wiping tears from his eyes during the quiet moments of our days. I knew he missed his family. It didn't help that he was training for his possible death. And from the look Glimmer was giving Peeta as he made his way toward her, it seemed she would be a very good distraction.

I continued building the fire Peeta and I had started, adding some twigs to the pile we had already created. A few minutes later and there was a fire burning brightly in front of me. I took a moment to search for Peeta. He was still at the camouflage station with Glimmer; she was giggling as he painted yellow flowers on her face and arms. I snorted. They were acting ridiculous.

"Sickening, isn't it?" A voice murmured just behind me. I jumped.

"Cato! You almost gave me a heart attack!" I snapped without turning my head. I heard a chuckle.

"So much for being a hunter. I've been standing behind you for at least two minutes." He said as he walked around and crouched by the fire opposite me. I stuck my tongue out at him. He grinned.

"You do that a lot." He stated.

I shrugged. "Only to you."

"Is that a compliment?"

"Should it be?" I asked him.

He smirked. "You tell me, Katniss."

I stuck my tongue out at him.

He laughed out loud. It was a very deep, full laugh, and almost melodic. I decided I liked his laugh. After he stopped laughing his face seemed softer than before. He seemed… happier.

"I'm sorry for last night, Katniss. I let my temper get away from me. It sort of happens a lot." I glanced at him. Was that a threat? I wouldn't put it past him; even though he had been helping me for the past two nights, he was still dangerous. I still didn't know where his loyalties lay.

"Was that an actual apology?"

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, it was an apology. Ever heard of it?"

I smirked. "Nope." Cato chuckled. We settled into comfortable silence, watching the flames lick at the wood.

"So… does this mean we're going to keep training?" I asked quietly.

He looked at me quickly, searching my face. "Think you can handle it?" He was being serious; if I was going to continue training with Cato, I was going to have to get over the fact that he was dangerous and bad-tempered. I pondered this. We had been training together in secret for the past two nights. A few more couldn't hurt. Plus, since Cato was the leader of the Careers, I might be able to get me and Peeta some leniency in the Games if I played my cards right. There was also the small part of me that desperately wanted to become friends with this strange man who was sometimes like a bear and sometimes like a boy. I squashed that part of me down quickly; Cato was dangerous. If the unthinkable happened; if I survived enough to be one of the final two in the Games, the other would inevitably be Cato. And I knew that he wouldn't hesitate to kill me, just as I wouldn't hesitate to kill him if – when – the time came. But good training partners were hard to find.

I thought a moment, and then smirked. "I think I can handle a psychotic, bad-tempered Adonis with a superiority complex."

Cato smirked back. "You've got quite a mouth on you, 12. Good thing you're on my side now; if you weren't, I'd be tempted to let Clove carve it off of you when the Games started." With that he stood up and walked off. I glared at his retreating back. This was going to be more interesting than I thought.

A bell sounded and Atala started summoning everyone to the main staging area in front of the Game Makers. I sighed and stood up, sprinting to catch up to Cato as he walked towards the stage.

We were the last to arrive at the gathering. Clove was glaring daggers at me from across the group. I ignored her and listened to Atala.

"The Game Makers have made a request; they want to see the tributes in action against each other so that they can make some minute adjustments to the Games schedule. So, each of you will be required to go up against another assigned tribute in unarmed combat. However, just in case one of you happens to go too far, each tribute will be given a collar, which, if he or she begins to threaten the life or well-being of another tribute, will paralyze him or her until the other tribute can be rescued. Now everyone line up, and I will give you the name of your assigned sparring partner."

Peeta was assigned Glimmer, Cato was assigned Thresh, and I was assigned Clove. She looked at me with a sort of happy malice. No doubt she had been extensively trained in hand-to-hand combat.

Rue and the boy from 1, Marvel, were up first. Rue managed to dodge Marvel for the first minute and a half. I had to give her credit; she was fast and lithe, easily avoiding Marvel until he managed to snag a lock of her hair, sending her squealing to the ground. He sat on top of her for ten seconds until they declared him the winner. As soon as he got off of her, Rue jumped up and ran behind Thresh, who was glaring at Marvel. _If looks could kill_…

Peeta and Glimmer were next. They circled each other warily, neither willing to make the first move. Finally Peeta lunged at Glimmer. For a squarely built, muscular guy he was surprisingly fast. Glimmer must not have expected his swiftness either because she didn't get out of the way fast enough; she squealed as he took her down. Peeta sat on top of her and held her arms down as she struggled against him. After ten seconds he got up as quickly as he could and helped Glimmer up, apologizing profusely the whole time.

It was my turn. An Avox attached the collar to my neck. Clove was glaring at me again as they put an identical collar around her neck. Why did she have to glare? Was she jealous because I was frie – training partners with Cato? I'd have to ask him later. That is, if I survived this. I was sure that Clove would be on top of me in a moment. I had never wrestled before, so I was probably in deep trouble.

Cato walked up to Clove and they started whispering fiercely. Clove kept glaring at me sporadically throughout their discussion; apparently they were talking about me. Finally Clove raised her hands in mock surrender, obviously consenting to whatever Cato had asked – or, more likely, demanded – of her.

Finally, Atala gave the signal to begin. Clove stood there with her arms crossed, as if deciding which part of me to maim first. I watched her with careful eyes, trying to anticipate her movement. Neither of us moved for a minute.

There. Her eye twitched. I readied myself, barely in time for her onslaught. She rushed at me in a blur, grabbing my neck and attempting to throw me down on the floor. I grabbed her arms and pulled her down with me. We rolled on the floor, trying to get a hold of the other. Somehow she got both of my arms behind me and pulled them up, drawing a yelp of pain from me. She pushed her knee into the middle of my back and continued to pull my arms. I guess she won.

As the bell signaling the end of the match rang, she let me go. I sat up, rolling my shoulders. Nothing had been dislocated, thankfully. As we exited the ring, she whispered, "Better watch it, Firegirl. Cato can't protect you forever. I'm going to take you down, and when I do, it's not going to be pretty."

I stood in shock as Clove smirked and passed me.

Cato and Thresh were busy glaring at each other. I walked up to Cato as the Avox was encircling the collar around his neck carefully.

"What did you tell Clove?" I whispered.

He didn't look away from Thresh. "I told her not to kill you. She hates your guts, you know."

"What? Why?"

He smirked. "Because you outshine her at every turn. You're nearly as good as her at knife-throwing, you have a better stylist, and frankly, you're more attractive than her. Why _wouldn't _she hate you?"

I shrugged. "I guess it makes sense. I suppose I should thank you, then, for not letting her kill me."

He laughed. "Oh, she's still going to try to kill you when I'm not looking. I'd watch my back if I were you."

I rolled my eyes just as Atala called for the next spar.

Cato grinned as he slid into the ring. "Wish me luck, Firegirl."

I smiled and stuck out my tongue. He chuckled and turned around to face Thresh. Unfortunately the bell had already sounded and so all he got was a body slam from Thresh. He got knocked against the side of the ring. Cato managed to kick Thresh off, and jumped to his feet, scowling.

They started circling each other, looking for a weakness in the other. Cato's attention never wavered again; he was fully focused on the task before him. They exchanged a few tentative punches and kicks, sizing each other up. Suddenly, Cato rushed Thresh. Thresh ducked and attempted to throw Cato over his shoulder, but Cato got an arm around his neck and forced Thresh to the ground using his own weight. Thresh tried to get up, but Cato pushed him back down and sat on him, restricting his torso and holding down his arms. Somehow Thresh managed to wriggle out from under him, because a few seconds later the two tributes were rolling on the floor, grappling for an advantage.

Cato got one of his arms under Thresh's, and another around his neck. He wrapped his legs around Thresh's body, restricting his movement once again. No matter how much Thresh bucked or rolled, Cato didn't budge. Finally the bell sounded, declaring Cato the obvious winner. But the two didn't get up.

Thresh wrested himself out of Cato's grasp and whirled around, punching Cato in the nose, drawing blood. Cato put a hand to his nose and saw the blood. A horrific look crossed his face; he was going to murder Thresh. He lunged at Thresh again and they started exchanging kicks and punches again, only much more violent. They were going to hurt each other. Atala was yelling at them to stop, but they paid her no heed. Clove and I were screaming at Cato, begging him to just let it go.

Suddenly the collars started beeping and the two tributes both froze. It would have been rather funny to see if the situation hadn't been so frightening; Cato's arm was pulled back, about to land a punch, and Thresh's face was contorted in a feral snarl.

It took three Peacekeepers to control each of the tributes once they were separated. Cato looked fierce, with blood dripping down his face and onto his shirt. Thresh was silently aggressive; he didn't scream or yell like Cato did, he just fought the Peacekeepers with all his might. I met Rue's gaze, and nodded. We both went to our respective tributes to try to calm them down. I heard Rue whispering softly to Thresh; her voice sweet and quiet.

I walked up to Cato and put my hand on his arm. He was still breathing heavily and looked at me quickly, his face still twisted into a snarl. Clove came up and started talking to him. "Cato, you need to calm down. Now is not the time. Save it for the arena."

"I want to kill him. He's mine." I heard him whisper.

Clove nodded. "Okay, Cato. You can have Thresh. But not now, and not until the Games. Until then you can dream up ways to murder him to your heart's content, but for now, just _let it go_."

He nodded, and wiped the blood from his nose. "He's going to pay for this." He snarled, then walked away to sit down. He glared at the medics, daring them to come closer. I just stood there, watching. Someone was fighting in the ring; I paid them no attention.

Clove tried to clean Cato's face, but he wouldn't let her. I heard her pleading with him, saying that his nose could be broken and that it needed to be taken care of, but he just pushed her away, glaring at Thresh. Finally she sighed in exasperation. She got up and walked towards me.

"Will you help him?" She asked me.

I stood nearly open-mouthed in shock. Was Clove asking me to do something? She saw my face and rolled her eyes.

"Someone needs to take care of him. He would always do this back home; if he got hurt he'd go and sulk after pummeling whoever injured him. He wouldn't let anyone except his mom treat him. He wouldn't even let me." Her face grew almost sad as she looked at Cato.

I nodded sympathetically. That sounded like Cato. I could see him pushing away everyone who tried to help him.

"Why me, though?"

Clove snorted. "Because you're the only one crazy enough to go near him."

Good enough.

I walked over to Cato and sat down beside him, earning a small growl from him. I just waited. I saw him slowly calming down, the fire in his eyes dying down a little bit.

"Did Clove send you?"

"Yes. She's worried that your nose is broken."

"And she thinks you, a slum girl, can fix it?"

I bristled at that comment. "My mother was the town healer. I know how to fix such a paltry thing as a bloody nose."

He grinned, showing bloody teeth. I reached out and tried to touch his nose. He grabbed my arm and glared at me. I rolled my eyes. Was he really going to be this difficult? My patience was already being tried.

"Stop being a wuss and let me see your nose, Cato. It's not going to get any better on its own, and you've already lost a good amount of blood."

He glared at me for a few more seconds before letting my arm go.

"If you hurt me, I'll kill you."

I stuck out my tongue. "You're going to kill me anyways, apparently."

Cato grinned.

"Don't do that; you look creepy with all that blood in your teeth. Here, take a drink of water."

I felt the bones in his nose, gently pressing at the areas my mother had shown me. I felt his eyes on me intensely; it was a little disconcerting. His nose wasn't broken, but he still had to stop the bleeding. I got a towel from an Avox standing by and dabbed the blood off of his face, neck and hands.

"Now go wash up; you look like a serial killer." I told him.

Cato smirked. "I am one, sweetheart." I grimaced at the nickname.

"Well you don't have to look like one. Now go."

He walked away, and Clove quickly joined him. I sat down and watched the ongoing match between two tributes without actually seeing it.

Was Cato starting to trust me? Well, he obviously trusted me more than he trusted Clove. Which was smart; Clove probably wouldn't hesitate to stab him in the back if it came down to the two of them. Me, however, I wasn't sure about. I knew that I liked Cato; we were almost good friends. It was easy to talk to him, almost too easy. Plus the fact that he was teaching me how to use weapons didn't hurt.

But he was beginning to get under my skin. I saw the good in him, and I would be loath to extinguish what I had become attached to. But I was sure that if it came down to him or me, I'd still choose me. I had Prim and Gale and Mother to go back to.


	7. Chapter 7

**Cato POV**

I was still pondering ways to murder Thresh as I got out of the shower. That boy's number was up; no one hurt me and got away with it.

As I was deciding which fingers to cut off first, I heard a small knock on the door. "Door!" Clove yelled from the living room. I rolled my eyes and wrapped a towel around my waist as I walked towards the door. I opened it and lo and behold, there was Katniss Everdeen.

She looked at me with wide, innocent eyes. Apparently she had never seen a man in a towel before. I leaned against the doorway, towering over her.

I smiled down at her. "Need something, Firegirl?" She tore her eyes from my body and looked at me, then blushed and looked to the floor.

"Just wanted to see if you were okay," she mumbled. I chuckled. She was embarrassed! It was almost endearing.

"I'm fine, Katniss. Never felt better."

She looked at me, annoyed. "Yeah, you look amazing," and poked a bruise that had formed on my ribs. I winced and slapped her hand away.

"Like what you see?" I wiggled my eyebrows.

She stuck her tongue out. "Go put some clothes on."

She really was uncomfortable with my lack of clothing. "What's the matter? Never seen a half-clothed man before?"

She shook her head. "My mother's a healer and so she sees lots of accidents from the mines, but no, I never really… no, I haven't."

My eyebrows rose. I was surprised that she was so innocent. Even Clove had seen naked men before, and she was only fourteen. I suddenly felt embarrassed for some reason; I didn't want Katniss to see me in a towel.

A rough voice sounded from behind me. "Cato, who's there?"

I sighed and straightened, calling out, "No one, Brutus. I'll be right there."

Katniss was peering around me curiously, trying to see who was calling me. I gently pushed her away; it wouldn't do for Brutus to see a tribute from a rival district at our door.

"Brutus, one of my mentors. He's pretty strict. I'd better go."

She nodded and smiled briefly before turning to go. As she was about to round the corner I called after her. "Katniss."

She stopped and turned around. "What?"

"Tonight?" I asked.

She grinned and nodded. "Tonight," she replied. I smiled as she ran around the corner and vanished from my sight.

I stood in the doorway for a full minute, thinking. Katniss was so confusing. Sometimes she would act older than her years, showing wisdom which was only learned through hardship. I knew that District 12 was poor, so that made sense.

But sometimes she acted like a child, like just now. Maybe not childish, but more like… innocent. She had never seen a naked man before, and she was painfully oblivious to the fact that I was just using her. It almost made me feel bad. She reminded me of a kitten, scampering around and playing with everything she found. I didn't want to hurt her any more than I would have wanted to hurt a small baby.

My thoughts were interrupted when I felt a huge hand pull me roughly back inside our apartment.

"What the hell are you doing in a towel, standing in the middle of the doorway, boy? Get some clothes on." He pushed me into my room, muttering curses under his breath. I merely grinned and grabbed some clothes.

During dinner, Brutus and I were discussing possible allies for the Games.

"Thresh would be indispensable if you got him on your side, Cato."

I glared. "We are _not_ teaming up with Thresh. His number's already up; I'm killing him the first chance I get."

Brutus sighed. "Okay, then. Well, we already have Glimmer and Marvel as possible candidates, plus the District 4 tributes."

Clove snorted. "District 4 is useless this year. At least Marvel can throw a spear. But we'll have to bring Glimmer along too; Marvel won't come without her."

It was true; Marvel seemed very attached to the slut from his district. I filed that away; it could come in handy during the Games.

I pushed some peas around my plate with my fork. "What about Katniss?" I offered. "She's almost as good as Clove at knife-throwing, and she knows how to make traps for other tributes."

Clove sighed in exasperation. "He just wants his little girlfriend to come along for the ride. Don't listen to him, Brutus. He's just a lovesick puppy. She's useless to us; she has no skill that we don't."

I snarled and threw my butter knife at her. She easily ducked it and snickered as it lodged itself in the wall behind her.

"She's not my girlfriend and I'm not lovesick. I just think that she'd be useful to us. Stop being jealous, Clove. It ill becomes you."

"That's enough, you two. Cato, 12 is out of the question. She has too much loyalty to her other district partner; that could hurt you guys in the long run. Maybe if he was out of the picture, she might be more willing to join in, but until then, _stay away from her_." Brutus' speech ended in a threatening snarl. We both got the message and settled down to eat, sending secret glares at each other when we thought Brutus wasn't looking.

I was sneaking to the door later that night to go meet Katniss when Clove suddenly blocked my path. I glared and whispered, "What are you doing, Clove? I need to go somewhere."

Clove snickered. "To meet your little girlfriend?"

I said nothing and pushed past her. "You don't know anything, Clove. I'm using her, getting into her affections. That way she'll be an easier target in the arena."

Clove didn't believe me for a second. She jumped right back in front of me, blocking the door. "Yeah right. You like her, even if you won't admit it. You probably don't even know it yourself, but soon you'll be head over heels for her and then you won't be able to kill her, and there goes your chances of victory."

I snorted. "Yeah? And how would you know? You've never liked anyone before, Clove. How are you supposed to know what I'm going to do? She's just a pawn to me; I'm trying to exploit her weakness."

She ignored the first part of my commentary and asked, "Oh? And what's her weakness, O Wise Cato?"

I smirked. "Her willingness to trust people. She's going to trust me, Clove. And when she does, I'll use it against her."

Clove shook her head. "Cato, you do realize that trust is usually mutual? You're starting to trust her yourself. You're going to get closer and closer, and one day, you're going to look into her eyes, and realize that you won't be able to kill her. And then she's going to kill you."

I snarled with fury and pushed her out of the way. "You don't know anything, Clove. I'm strong, and I'm going to win this, and I'm not going to let a small girl from District 12 get in my way."

I opened the door and walked out.


End file.
